“No,” I say.“I’ve been through this before.”
We hear shouting below, sharp but controlled voices.We quickly make our way downstairs together.Crimson stands in the yard, arguing with a man I don’t recognize.An outsider who is clearly nervous judging by the amount of sweating he is doing.
“This deal was approved,” the man insists.
“It was conditional,” Crimson snaps.“And the conditions changed.”
The man sees Savage and goes pale.“President Kane, sir...”
Savage stops a few feet away.“You’re done here.”
The man swallows.“We had an arrangement.”
“You had access,” Savage replies.“And now you don’t.”
The man’s eyes flick to me.“Because of her?”
Savage doesn’t answer.I do.“No,” I say calmly.“Because you mistook tolerance for permission.”
The man hesitates, then leaves quickly.
Crimson turns to me after a beat.“They’re testing us, checking if we have any weak links.”
“I know,” I reply.
“But you’re not one?”
“That’s not how this works,” I say.“I’m not a link at all.”
He studies me, then nods once.“Good.”
I leave them out in the yard and make my way back inside, where I go and sit by Ghost’s bed, listening to the steady beep of machines.He’s unconscious and pale, but stubbornly alive.
“This is working,” I tell him quietly, filling him in on what is happening all around us.“They’re feeling it.”
His chest rises and falls.
“I won’t let them make you the cost of war,” I add, squeezing his hand.“You need to heal so you can give these assholes some payback.”
I stand and leave the infirmary, to find Savage waiting in the hall.
“You didn’t need to say that,” he says.
“I did,” I reply.“Words matter.”
He nods.“They do.”
We walk back toward the heart of the compound together, not touching, but somehow not distant.The first retaliation didn’t draw blood.But it did draw lines.The cartel knows now that this isn’t a tantrum or a territorial snarl.It’s methodical and intentional.
And they know something else too.I’m not the reason this war exists.I’m the reason it’s being fought differently.Which means the next move won’t be quiet.It’ll be personal.
And when it comes, I won’t be surprised.Because I’m not watching from the edges anymore.I’m standing in the center.
